


Maybe

by Deannie



Category: Early Edition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-03 01:36:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6591340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deannie/pseuds/Deannie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marissa and Gary... They weren't always friends. In fact, for a long time, he was pretty sure she hated him...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe

**Author's Note:**

> This was a snippet I wrote years and years ago. In cleaning out my writing bin, I decided to finish it. And leave it totally open-ended. :)

"Hello, Marissa."

Marissa smiled at Gary Hobson's voice. 

"Hello, Gary. How are you today?"

"I'm just fine, thank you, how are you?"

He'd been working here for nearly a month now, and he still treated her with a deference that his friend Chuck seemed to have gotten over rather quickly—just like almost everyone else in the firm. If anyone thought her fragile or helpless because of her blindness, she went out of her way to disabuse them of the idea.

And then it wasn't just she who was turning a blind eye on the affairs.

Gary should have been a candidate for the "Clark Treatment"—a sweet-sounding man who seemed to think she should be looked at as some kind of hero for simply holding down a regular job. She should have shown him how easy it was for her to locate someone's face with her fist.

But it never worked out that way.

Gary had been described to her by various people in the office as "cute"—sometimes even "a hunk." Well, Marissa didn't know from hunks, but he was just too nice a guy to mess with. He held doors for people, got you lunch just because, and treated every client as if they were the most important person on earth. That kind of guy, you didn't want to hurt. It was like kicking a puppy.

"Hey, Marissa! What's shaking?"

She grimaced. Chuck Fishman!  _ He _ was a guy who deserved to be hit—sometimes. But basically, he was such a fun person to be around, she didn't really bother to dislike him. And he couldn't care less about her blindness. Mostly because it had nothing to do with his favorite subject, Chuck Fishman. Why he and Gary were such good friends remained a mystery that three-plus weeks of working with the new guy had yet to solve.

"Look—um…" Gary was probably blushing now, but she didn't try to put him at ease. He was smart. He'd figure it out eventually: _Look, see,_ and _show_ were not dirty words around her. "Jim Barrington is coming in soon for a meeting. Can you sh… well, tell him I'll be in conference room four?"

"No problem."

"And don't scare him, okay?" Chuck put in good naturedly. "You glare, and the world comes crashing down."

She glared. Her mother had always said she could melt steel with her eyes—which meant, at least, that they were good for something.

Chuck groaned in mock fright. "Ugh! See what I mean, Gar? She's vicious!"

With a light laugh at his own humor, Chuck moved off, and Marissa could hear Gary moving with him. As they were almost to the "bullpen," she heard Gary whisper "Why do you have to give her such a hard time!?"

With a smile for his cornfed thoughtfulness, she turned to the ringing phone.

****

"What hard time?" Chuck asked, honestly surprised. "She  _ does _ burn holes through you when she does that."

"But Chuck, she's…" Gary waved a hand in front of his own face.

Chuck looked at him as if he was insane. "You're kidding, right? Gar, you  _ gotta _ get over this blind thing. She doesn't care. Why should you?"

Gary just shrugged, embarrassed, but Chuck smiled suddenly, as he realized that the blush on Gary's cheeks wasn't chagrin. "Tell you what, Gar? Why don't I set you two up?"

"A date?" Gary asked, panicked. "No. No, no, I couldn't…" He leaned toward his friend conspiratorily as they reached his desk. "Look, I don't think she likes me very much, Chuck."

"What are you talking about? She hasn't hit you yet, has she?"

Gary had been about to sit down, but straightened suddenly. " _ Hit _ me?" Surely Marissa wouldn't do that!

Chuck shrugged, smiling. "Hey, buddy, it's been known to happen. Isn't that right, Fred?"

Their boss, Fred Meanwell was walking by and was drawn into the discussion. "What's that, Chuck?"

"Marissa Clark. Receptionist. Mean right hook."

Fred smiled slyly at Gary. "Did she leave a bruise?"

"She didn't hit me!" Gary protested—a little too loudly. "Look, Chuck," he begged, watching as the other stockbrokers around them went back to what they'd been doing before his outbreak, and Fred walked on, out of earshot. "Just forget it, okay? Just forget the whole thing. I'm not interested."

"Ah, your lips say no, but your heart says yes, yes, yes!" Chuck announced in a whisper, as he too walked away.

"It does  _ not _ ," Gary groused to himself, turning to his computer and trying to get on with his day. He got as far as printing out the spreadsheets he'd need for his meeting this morning and found his thoughts drifting as he waited for the files to finish.

He did like Marissa. She was… was really pretty. And nice. But… He really did get the idea that she didn't like him. She… resented him or something. 

And a  _ date _ ? He couldn’t go on a date. With her. What would he talk to her about? He was always just… tongue-tied around her.

The Chuck in his head laughed and told him that just proved he  _ needed _ to have that date.

“Mr. Hobson, your 9:00 appt is waiting for you in the conference room.” Marissa’s soft professional voice over the intercom broke him out of his thoughts and he looked up at the clock, surprised to see that he’d been staring into space for fifteen minutes. He frowned and clicked the button on his phone to reply.

“On my way.” 

He grabbed the spreadsheets on his way to the conference room, nodding to Chuck as he passed him. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” Chuck whispered.

_No,_ Gary thought. _No._

_ Maybe… _

*******   
the end


End file.
